by Emmet Moss
After landing on the ground below the great wall, Auric didn’t allow anyone the opportunity to revel in their accomplishment. Having tied a Highwayman’s hitch, they were able to reclaim the rope, and Leoric was confident that little evidence remained of their descent. With their escape occurring far later then they had originally planned, the fleeing fugitives shouldered their scarce supplies and ran into the woods.
The next week passed in a blur of constant movement. The small group scavenged, hunted, and slept sporadically, their routine far from normal. More than once they had been roused from a restless slumber by the sounds of pursuit. Those nights, as the four men crashed blindly through the brush, had been the most terrifying. Running scared through the daylight hours was unsettling enough, but in the heady darkness of the Wilds at night, it was nearly unbearable.
Leoric had no doubt that their luck had been inconceivable. Angvald, of course, was determined to claim it as divine intervention, but Leoric would hear nothing of it. Auric watched the proceedings with his astute grin that the borderman had grown quite fond of.
Although they remained one step ahead of their goblin pursuers, the true test would come when they reached the river crossing. Both Angvald and Leoric had recognized the large tributary on Auric’s stolen maps as the one they had crossed the previous winter. It was there that the fiery Halas had succumbed to his injuries. The river posed the greatest threat to their freedom. How long they might be delayed at the water’s edge may very well determine their fate.
Each member of the group had offered opinions on how best to approach the situation: a raft, swimming, finding an appropriate place in which to safely ford the waters, and Leoric’s own; that they use the goblins own contraption to facilitate their escape. Each idea had merit, but no decision could be made until the river was reached. Until then, the good-natured banter over their separate plans provided some rare moments of camaraderie and normalcy between the escapees.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, lad,” a familiar voice whispered in the night.
“Curses! You gave me a fright!” Leoric swore, scrambling to his feet. Even at well over fifty summers, Auric could be stealthier than a mouse.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your thoughts, but as much as you believe the contrary, you do need sleep like the rest of us,” Auric stated.
Leoric cast a glance up at the night and squinted. “Time passed quickly tonight,” he muttered. “Either I’m falling asleep, or time is skewed in these damned woods.”
“I think this land is beautiful,” Auric replied with a surprised look. “Can you find another place in this world so carefree and wild, so full of life and untainted by the hands of mankind?”
“I find this place terrifying…” Leoric shook his head and smiled. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Turning to leave, he was held back by one of Auric’s gnarled brown hands.
For the first time since meeting the enigmatic man, Leoric watched a spasm of doubt cross Auric’s wrinkled face. It pierced his heart to see a look of such sadness, and he reached out to grip the venerable man’s hand. “Auric?” he whispered fearfully. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
At Leoric’s words, the old man merely smiled sadly and held his hand. “I have need of a favour, and I find myself troubled asking it of you, even though I know I must.”
“Tell me…” Leoric said uneasily.
“You see, I’ve agonized over a moment such as this for more than half my life, Leoric,” he said. “I’ve lived a relatively simple life despite its hardships, but I have always regretted one thing; my lack of family. There were times when I so desperately wanted to settle down, but I allowed my burdens to consume my life…”
Unsure of where the conversation was heading, Leoric remained silent and patiently waited for his friend to collect his thoughts.
“I need you to make me a promise, Leoric D’Athgaran.”
“A promise?” Leoric was more than a little confused by the request.
“Yes,” Auric nodded.
“I cannot agree to anything until I hear you out, Auric,” Leoric responded. “But I will listen to what you have to say.”
Auric continued, “When the time comes, Leoric, I need you to promise not to put your own life on hold for duty or for your responsibility to the destiny the gods have chosen for you. Walk your own path, and refuse to sacrifice happiness,” he said, meeting Leoric’s confused stare.
“I’ll never again show faith in the gods above. You know that,” the borderman replied darkly. “I’ll do as you ask, but I never thought you were a pious man? This is the first I’ve heard of this matter with you. I don’t understand…”
Auric smiled sympathetically, “For the moment, understanding may elude you, but don’t doubt my belief in the gods that protect us and guide our lives.”
“Then why?” Leoric pressed.
“I believe the gods set us on our paths with a goal in mind. The difference lies in how we arrive at the end. Why must one man walk a life of loneliness in order to complete his destiny? Let your own heart guide your steps, Leoric, that you arrive at the end of the road in a different fashion should matter little; you’ll arrive there all the same.”
“But —”
Auric released the borderman’s big hands and turned away. “When we arrive at the river, time will be short. I will be ready then,” he added wistfully.
Agitated by the conversation, Leoric stared at the forest for long minutes after Auric disappeared into its impenetrable shadows. That evening in the Wilds, Leoric D’Athgaran eventually drifted off, but he couldn’t help but wonder about what he had promised. A peculiar doubt had been aroused in his mind by Auric’s request. It had all seemed far too simple…
Two days after the nighttime discussion, Leoric found himself crouched in a dense thicket with Angvald, both men up to their ankles in mud. The overcast skies had not let up, and they were soaked, shivering, and miserable.
“I count six,” Angvald said in a hushed tone.
Following the Kaleenian’s line of vision, Leoric caught sight of some trailing soldiers of what appeared to be a small goblin patrol. “Scouts attached to a larger company perhaps?” he ventured.
Angvald shook his head. “Not many scouts travel so closely together when on duty. I’d guess they don’t know we’re in the vicinity.”
“Good point. They are travelling east, something we haven’t seen as of yet.”
“A welcome change if you ask me,” the big man said with relief.
The members of the patrol were clothed like the goblins from the prisoner camp; hard looking warriors wearing a combination of studded leather and chain armour. Long plumes adorned their dirty white hair, denoting their clan affinity; but to both Leoric and Angvald, the red and white band with a black slash was unfamiliar. The half dozen goblins chatted amongst themselves, oblivious to the two men crouched on the small rise north of the game trail the soldiers were evidently following.
Even more interesting than the presence of the patrol, was the prize carried by two of the goblins on a long wooden pole held between them. An enormous stag swayed ponderously, the legs of the animal bound securely to the wooden shaft. Leoric’s mouth watered at the sight of the slain beast, his stomach rumbling in distress, reminding him of how long it had been since they had eaten meat of any kind. Had the stag not been a part of the procession below, he was sure that he and Angvald would have fled long ago to warn the others. As it stood, both men were unwilling to let the badly needed food slip away so easily.
“They have no idea we’re here,” Leoric whispered. “We might be able to track them… and that stag looks like it would make quite a feast.”
“We’re not exactly the smallest two scouts you’d find,” Angvald quipped. “But I bet Auric would take to this task like a fish to water, no?”
“I think you’re right,�
�� Leoric responded and sidled backwards, careful not to make a noise as he crept deeper into the concealing foliage. “I’ll get the old man, you keep an eye on which way they travel.”
Less than an hour later, Auric returned to report his findings. As expected, he had been just as interested in the prospect of a real meal as the rest of them and had accepted the task without complaint.
“They’re in a small clearing a few leagues from here. It’s really nothing more than a small campfire in front of a large dark hole in the ground. It could be the entrance to a cache of supplies — maybe weapons and the like.”
“Defences?” Leoric asked.
“None really. The clearing is in a patch of dense wood, covered on all sides with a bit of a rocky slope to the west. That’s where they’ve dug into the earth. I expect those soldiers are merely stockpiling in case of an emergency,” Auric speculated.
“Or stockpiling for new arrivals from Lok’Dal hie?” Benoit added.
The old man nodded. “Aye, could be that as well. In any case, we have to make a decision. Either we delay and plan a nighttime ambush with the risk of being overtaken, or we press onward towards the river.”
“Truthfully, I need to eat a good meal. If we’re overtaken without regaining something of our former energy, we’ll go down without a whimper,” Angvald spoke. It was apparent to the others that the large warrior had lost weight.
Leoric settled his gaze on Benoit. With an embarrassed look, the man seemed indecisive. “Speak freely, Ben, we make this decision together,” Leoric said.
“I’m hungry and I’m tired, Leoric, but I’m no fighter.” Brandishing his belted dagger, he swore, “Cursed Arne, I don’t know the first thing about defending myself, let alone attacking trained guards. But we aren’t going to reach Darkenedge in our current condition. If we can attack safely then I believe we have no choice… we need to eat.”
“Auric?” Leoric said.
“I agree with, Benoit. If beset by our pursuers now, we don’t stand a chance.” He spoke with confidence. “What say you, Leoric?”
Once again Leoric was struck by the realization that these three men were looking to him for guidance, looking to him to make the final decision. Seizing the responsibility, the borderman shook off any misgivings and met each man’s eyes with an unyielding look of his own.
“We have a few hours until dark. Let’s rest up and plan the attack. Angvald, you’re the most experienced warrior among us, so I’ll defer to you for the final approval of any ambush. Auric, I’ll need your input as well.” Turning to Benoit, he wrapped an arm around the thin man’s shoulders. “Benoit, I need your courage. You’re the smartest man here and you’ll advise where you feel most comfortable.”
With all three companions nodding their approval, the escapees set to work.
Auric’s description of the small glade had been accurate. Surrounded by the dense woods, the fire pit and black hole cut into the earth were situated in the center of the clearing. Three of the goblins were sleeping while two sat quietly by the fire. The sixth was last seen disappearing inside the opening in the ground.
Hidden by the thick trees to the east of the clearing, Leoric crouched, his body taut and ready to react. A long knife in his hand, carefully keeping the cold steel from glinting in the sparse moonlight, he was to be the third man to join the fray. Auric and Angvald had carefully circled the area, positioning themselves on either side of the oblivious guards. So far into the uncharted Wilds, it was almost certain the goblins wouldn’t be expecting any late night arrivals.
Benoit was positioned opposite Leoric, a little deeper into the woods for his own safety. The scholarly man was acting as a rearguard defense, in position to warn the others should unexpected reinforcements come from the direction of Lok’Dal hie. The last thing their battered company needed was unwanted visitors.
The element of surprise was their biggest advantage, perhaps even the only one, and Leoric was counting on it working in their favour. He was starting to fret as the minutes slipped by, when a sudden slight movement along the treeline next to the closest guard drew his attention. Angvald, despite his great bulk, was nothing more than a shadow as he emerged from the edge of the dense cover.
The recent poor weather, cursed by all four men, was now a welcome boon for the ambush. Auric and the Kaleenian had smeared mud from the wet forest floor all over their bodies. Only the whites of their eyes would be visible to their foes. By the time Leoric picked up Auric’s movements, his shadowy outline was nearly upon his target.
Gripping the long knife firmly in his hand, Leoric did his best to quell the now familiar trace of reluctance that came over him whenever he wielded a blade. Clenching his fist arduously around the leather wrapped hilt, he rushed forward, crashing through the woods with a complete disregard to stealth.
Both guards leapt to their feet, alerted by the loud disturbance outside the camp. In two short steps, Angvald and Auric were upon them. Soundlessly, the goblin soldiers collapsed to the ground with throats slit, their gasping attempts to draw breath smothered by their attackers’ hands.
As Leoric broke free from cover, Angvald waited by the side of the underground entrance, bloodied blade at the ready. Leoric ignored his friend, focusing instead on the nearest goblin struggling groggily to his feet. Mere seconds had passed since his charge, and yet already the three previously sleeping warriors were close to regaining their senses.
Auric buried his blade deep in the chest of the nearest guard and moved deftly on to the next opponent. Leoric blocked a feeble punch from his attacker, batting aside the weak swing and never slowing his progress. Dropping a shoulder, he launched himself at his unbalanced adversary. He sent the guard flying backwards. Without pause, Leoric stabbed downward and yanked back on the blade. As black blood spurted up from the wound, he silenced the goblin with a second strike.
Angvald thundered forward as a goblin exited the tunnel in a run. Surprised by the towering Kaleenian, Angvald easily overwhelmed the smaller foe, driving his dagger into the soldier’s abdomen, spinning behind him, and breaking his neck with one sharp twist.
To Leoric’s left, the last slumbering guard fell with a piercing wail. Without a word, Auric dispatched the man. For long minutes all three men stood outlined in the firelight, their heavy breathing the only sound in the clearing besides the crackling of the fire. Surveying the carnage, Leoric found it unsatisfying to have slaughtered the unarmed soldiers — goblins or not.
As if in answer to his thoughts, Auric spoke. “It had to be done. Warriors live to die in battle. They did so, if not exactly on their own terms,” he commented impassively.
“They would have shown us no mercy,” Angvald spat on the corpse at his feet. “May their souls never find rest with their ancestors.”
Nodding grimly, Leoric knew that both men were right. Long past was the time for mercy. As Benoit entered the glade, the borderman had mastered his emotions. Issuing quick orders, they got to work. The river was still distant, and any delay would allow their pursuers to draw closer.
Fortune had indeed smiled upon them. The cache was a treasure trove of supplies beyond imagining. Apart from the meat of the roasted stag, the small underground storeroom contained crude wooden shelves stocked with items ranging from hardened bread and mushrooms, to sturdy cloaks and decent clothing. A small weapons rack located near the back of the torchlit cavern also provided the men with a much needed upgrade of their arms. With glee, Angvald brandished a large double-bladed axe, the weapon finely crafted and well-balanced. Leoric and Auric found some common maces, and even Benoit found something that he was infinitely more comfortable bearing: a sturdy longbow and quiver full of arrows.
“I hunted with my brothers in my youth. I was a fair shot, but whether that still stands true remains to be seen,” Benoit said with a rare smile.
Something in the easy manner in which his companion held
the weapon brought a smile to Leoric’s face as well. Even the man’s slumped shoulders lifted, and a small glimmer of confidence, absent since their capture and subsequent exile to Shalo’k, had returned. Bolstered by their discovery, Leoric nodded with satisfaction. The company had executed their plan perfectly. If anything, the simple boost to their morale had been worth the risk of the attack. The supplies and weapons were an added bonus that would give them the strength to push onwards.
Leoric surveyed the small cave. “As much as we’d like to celebrate our victory, there are things that need doing. We need to separate what we’ve found here and take only what is required. Ben, I’ll leave this task in your capable hands. Angvald, you and I need to dispose of the bodies and salvage what we can of the guard’s armour. Auric, I need you to look to our meals and take a quick tour of the immediate area. Scout our back trail as well. Do your best to cover up our tracks, and keep an eye out for those who pursue us. We leave at first light, so let’s make the most of our time here.”
Leoric and Angvald dug a shallow grave to put the goblin corpses in using a pair of shovels Benoit had found among the supplies. The earth, still wet from the damp weather, easily gave way and in short order the bodies were hidden. Any tracker would have little trouble finding the site, but unless searched for, the unmarked grave would serve its purpose.
Sitting near the campfire and huddled close together for warmth, the four men talked sparingly as they devoured the venison; the giant Angvald consuming almost a double portion. The meal, accompanied by a barrel of watery ale found in the cave, was a veritable feast for the fugitives. Wiping away the juice dripping down his chin and into his thickening beard, Leoric believed he was eating what could only be the most enjoyable meal of his life.
With stomachs full, Angvald offered to take the first watch. As the three others lay down on newly acquired bedrolls, the Kaleenian began to hum a lively tune that had Leoric smiling happily.
